


Filling In The Blanks

by Socket



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, Fridget, Jealousy, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socket/pseuds/Socket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving <i>Wentworth</i> Bridget becomes a University lecturer. One of her students takes a little too much interest in her and Franky becomes jealous. Things soon spiral out of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Timeline:** Set after 3x12: Blood and Fire 

Dinner was prepared, now all she needed to do was set the mood. Franky dimmed the lights in the living room and put on Bridget's favourite jazz CD, then lit the candles on the dinner table and stood back to admire her handiwork. It was perfect. Now all she needed was Bridget.

She peered at the clock; Bridget was due home any minute.

She opened a bottle of red wine and sat and waited.

Twenty minutes later Bridget walked through the door. She looked tired as she set her briefcase down and shrugged out of her jacket (the tight brown leather one that did things to Franky's insides whenever she saw Bridget donning it) and hung it up. She crossed the room, smiling brightly as soon as she set eyes on Franky.

"Hey baby," she greeted as she sat on Franky's lap, wrapped her arms around Franky's neck and pulled her into a kiss.

Franky felt the room dissolve, felt everything fade but the woman before her. She returned the passion of the kiss and ran her hands up her girlfriend's back, landing in that thick mane of blonde hair.

"I needed that," Bridget whispered as she broke the kiss, their noses touching.

"Long day?"

Bridget nodded. Then noticed the dinner table for the first time. It was beautifully set – their best china, napkins shaped into swans, scented candles flickered, a bottle of Merlot decanting, the salad colourful and inviting and a delicious aroma drifted from the oven.

"Wow," she murmured.

Franky smiled broadly and tapped Bridget's hip gently. Bridget moved into the chair beside Franky.

Doyle stood and moved into the kitchen. She took the chicken parcels out of the oven, uncovered the vegetables on the hotplate and arranged them expertly on two plates.

She entered the living room. "M'lady," she joked as she placed a full plate in front of Bridget: chicken breast wrapped in brik pastry, served with mash potato, seasonal veg and tomato & tarragon sauce.

It was one of the new recipes she and Charlie were working on for the restaurant. He was alright for an old timer. Didn't mind her making suggestions to improve the menu and didn't care that she was an ex-crim. He'd been in the slammer himself so he understood.

She'd taken a part-time job as his Assistant Chef to earn some money while she finished her law degree; it was flexible hours and suited her perfectly. She didn't want to sit around the house in her spare time and didn't want Bridget to think she wasn't pulling her weight. She liked being busy, it kept her out of trouble.

Bridget's mouth watered at the feast before her. "This looks amazing."

She looked up at Franky with admiration and the brunette couldn't resist leaning down and kissing her.

"You've been working too hard lately. I wanted to pamper you," Franky declared as she retook her seat.

She'd hardly seen Bridget this week and it worried her. That's how couples grew apart – gradually, not noticing how little time they made for each other and then without realising it, they were living different lives. She didn't want that to happen to them. She'd fight tooth-and-nail to keep Bridget.

She poured them both a glass of wine and they clinked glasses.

"To the chef," Bridget toasted, smiling radiantly. She felt spoilt, felt like the luckiest woman on the planet.

As they tucked into their meal, Bridget told Franky all about her day. Franky listened attentively; she loved hearing Bridget talk. Even when she was having a crappy day she always managed to find the good in it.

Then Bridget mentioned her.

Tolly.

Franky stiffened.

"Tolly missed class again today. She gets her papers in on time but keeps skipping class. It's so frustrating - her work is good, the best in my undergraduate class."

Bridget had mentioned this particular student once too often. Most days in fact. She seemed unaware of how much Tolly had wormed her way into their lives.

Last month the girl had even rung here, at their home, late one night. Giving Gidge some sob story about why she needed an extension on an essay. Franky had laid in bed and listened to their whispered conversation – Bridget had taken the phone into another room so as not to disturb her and Franky had only been able to decipher the odd word, resented the occasional laugh from Bridget – all the while her body hummed with jealousy…

"She showed up at my office just as I was leaving, said she had a personal problem she had to deal with that morning and was sorry to have missed my class. So I stayed behind and went over my notes with her."

Franky gripped the stem of her wine glass, her knuckles turned white as she imagined Gidget and Tolly alone in Bridget's cramped office: the blinds drawn, the room shrouded in intimate darkness… leaning closely together as they reviewed the notes… their shoulders touching… their thighs brushing against each other by accident… or maybe on purpose - maybe Tolly wasn't a wallflower, maybe Tolly was a devious bitch using any method possible to get time alone with Bridget.

"That's the second time this week," Franky pointed out, trying to mask the misgiving in her voice.

"She asked for help - I couldn't turn her away. She's keen."

_I'll bet she is_ , Franky thought. She bit her tongue. Gidget was a sucker for no-hopers. It's one of the things she loved most about Bridget - her compassion, her belief in people, in redemption.

Bridget continued relaying the day's events but Franky wasn't listening. She didn't like this feeling of suspicion. It was new and sat heavy on her. They'd been together for two years and she'd never felt insecure before – Bridget was always affectionate and lavished plenty of attention on her… but there was something that made her uneasy about Tolly. Instinct told her to be weary. After all, Franky had managed to get Bridget's attention when she was her patient… what's to say a savvy young student couldn't also cast a spell over Bridget?

Noticing Franky's remoteness, Bridget stopped talking. She studied the brunette with concern and reached out, placing her hand over Franky's. "Are you okay?"

Franky forced a smile and nodded. Then an idea came to her. "Maybe I could tag along to one of your classes, you know – see you in action."

Bridget laughed. "Bore you rigid you mean."

Franky held the blonde's gaze, there was something determined and solemn in her expression that touched Bridget.

"I'd like to, if you don't mind." Franky persisted. "Besides, I might be able to use it as an extra credit for my LLB course."

Bridget quirked an eyebrow. "You know the criminal mind better than I do. But if you want to come along, of course you can."

Franky grinned. "Great. I've got tomorrow arvo off. I'll swing by then." She took a bite of carrot, smiling as if she'd won something.

Bridget nodded at her lover, feeling there was more going on than she was aware of. "Okay."

**************

Bridget was giving a lecture on _Cognitive Behaviour Therapy_ to a hall bursting with students. The seats in the auditorium were all filled and students had taken to standing at the back and sitting on the steps. Franky sat in the third row, beaming proudly. That was her girlfriend up there, being smart as fuck and charming everyone. Bridget had the whole audience rapt and hanging on her every word.

Afterwards, they headed down the Uni pub with several of Bridget's colleagues and some eager students, throwing questions at Bridget and listening intently to her answers.

Franky was happy to take a backseat. She sipped her beer and leaned against a pillar, watching students swarm around Bridget who glowed – she loved the enthusiasm of her students, the debate…

Franky glanced around the pub; it was lively, the decor was traditional and it had a welcoming feel. That's when Franky noticed her. A waif of a girl, no more than twenty, standing in the doorway. She wore designer clothes, clutched an expensive handbag and had immaculate hair and make-up. She also had a dark, determined look as she honed in on Bridget. _Must be her,_ Franky thought. She seemed the sort accustomed to getting what she wanted and right now her gaze was fixed on Bridget.

Bridget was standing at the bar talking animatedly to a colleague when Tolly swooped in and proceeded to monopolise Bridget's attention.

Franky knew Bridget would see through Tolly's act (Bridget's bullshit detector was unparalleled) but it still riled her. Jealousy stirred as she watched Tolly flirt with Bridget, flick her hair back like she was in a fucking shampoo commercial and lick her lips suggestively… then she reached out a presumptuous hand and touched Bridget's arm… Franky wanted to break every bone in that hand. If they'd been in Wentworth, she would have. It took all of Franky's restraint not to charge across the room, grab the waif by the throat, pin her to the wall and beat the shit out of her.

Tolly laughed at something and Bridget smiled, but it was a polite smile – it didn't reach her eyes. Not the way she smiled at Franky.

Bridget's colleague moved towards the barman to order another drink, leaving Bridget and Tolly unchaperoned. Tolly jumped at the opportunity. She leaned closer to Bridget and whispered something… Franky's mind ran wild. She couldn't take it anymore.

Franky moved purposefully towards Bridget. Keeping calm, keeping control. And Bridget must be good for her because she's never been this self-possessed before when what she really wanted to do was snap Tolly like a twig.

She sidled up to Bridget, interrupting their private discussion and slipped her arm around the blonde's waist. She offered Bridget a startlingly bright smile; going into full charismatic mode. Bridget raised her eyebrows as she felt Franky's fingertips dig possessively into her skin.

"Introduce me to your new friend, Gidge," Franky cooed but Bridget detected the danger in her tone. Suddenly she felt like she was territory being fought over.

She indicated the waif. "This is Tolly, one of my students."

Tolly smiled falsely and Franky could see the resentment housed in the girls eyes.

Franky's spiteful, playful side kicked-in. She might not be able to use her fists but she could still use her wit to maim. "Tolly, that's an unusual name."

"It's short for Victoria."

"Righto. Aren't you a bit young to be a groupie?"

The jovial atmosphere suddenly plummeted and Bridget's face froze in an uncomfortable expression. Several students and lecturers nearby quietened – listening-in.

Tolly feigned ignorance. "Sorry?"

Bridget looked pleadingly at Franky, who ignored her.

Franky kept her crystal clear gaze fixed firmly on the waif. "You will be. You keep eye-fucking my girlfriend and you'll be pissing through a catheter for a month."

There were audible gasps from those close by. Bridget was mortified. Franky unrepentant.

Tolly was momentarily shocked but she wasn't stupid – she knew exactly how to play it. Her face suddenly crumpled and she began to cry. "I don't know what you're talking about! Why are you're being so vile? What did I ever do to you?!"

Bridget pulled away from Franky, her expression thunderous as she glared at her girlfriend. "Well done Franky! What are you twelve?"

Franky didn't care; she'd put up with Bridget's wrath as long as Tolly knew where she stood.

Bridget put a soothing hand on Tolly's arm. "Are you okay?"

Tolly shook her head violently, eyes full of distress, then she took off. She raced out of the pub.

"Tolly – wait!" Bridget called out and ran after her, feeling responsible.

Franky grinded her teeth. For fucksake – why was Bridget trailing after that prima donna?

The surrounding lecturers and students fanned away from Franky as if she were a bad smell. Franky leaned against the bar, acting blasé, but Bridget's reaction aggravated her.

_Alright, maybe I need a new approach to dealing with women who hit on Bridget,_ but she was used to scrapping. Used to upfront hostility.

_Shit._ She'd fucked-up. She wasn't sorry for upsetting Tolly but she was in Bridget's place of work and had embarrassed her. Franky sighed. _Fuck it._

She went in search of Bridget. She had to fix this.


	2. Chapter 2

Franky walked down a corridor. Then along another that looked identical. There was no sign of Bridget; Franky called out. No response. She tried phoning Gidget but she didn't answer - it went straight to her messaging service. Franky left three messages, then grew weary.

When she reached Bridget's office it was locked. Franky sat on the floor outside. She decided to wait; Bridget would return eventually (her briefcase was inside).

**************

Half an hour later Bridget turned the corner. She was alone. She scowled as she approached Franky.

"Where's Tolly?" Doyle asked.

"Gone home," came the brisk reply.

A constraint fell between them.

Franky got to her feet and Bridget unlocked her office. They went in.

Bridget threw her keys down on the desk; she was pissed.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you but Tolly needed putting straight," Franky stated, trying to pre-empt the fight they were about to have.

Bridget spun on her heels, meeting Franky's eyes squarely. "I was dealing with it."

Franky clenched her fists, feeling her animosity bubble. "Why do you keep taking her side?"

Bridget moaned with frustration. "I don't! I'm responding to your juvenile behaviour. She's a child – there was no call to talk to her like that!"

"She's not an innocent. You must've noticed how she looks at you?"

Bridget folded her arms across her chest. "Yes and I've made it clear that nothing will come of it."

Franky let out an amused snort. "Yeah, I'm sure she took that on board."

"It's just a crush. It will pass."

"You're so gullible Gidge - "

Bridget threw her arms up in exasperation. "Do you think I'd risk our relationship for a fling with a teenager?! Do you really think that we mean so little?"

A silence fell. And suddenly they were speaking to each other without words. Their eyes conveying everything; the hurt, the mistrust.

The light was disappearing from the office into the gathering dusk. Casting shadows over their faces.

Franky stepped closer to Bridget. "I'm looking out for you. She can't be trusted."

Bridget's voice rose several octaves. "Why are you obsessing over this? You know I'd never cheat on you."

And Bridget felt like her loyalty was being questioned; it was crushing, to know that Franky doubted her.

Franky couldn't resist. "Well you have already been 'let go' from one job for inappropriate relations."

The words stung.

Bridget glared at her girlfriend, hurt. "Why are you twisting everything?" she demanded.

Franky punched the door.

The sound of splintering wood filled the air and Doyle's hand throbbed.

Bridget's frustration whipped into anger. "You've got nothing to be jealous of. Tolly isn't a threat to us."

Franky glared at Bridget. "Sure she is - we're already fighting and nothing's happened between you two," she paused. "Yet."

The blonde rubbed her face. "She's confused. She's got a lot of personal shit to deal with."

"Like what?" Franky quizzed.

"I can't tell you that."

Doyle tutted with irritation. "She's not your fucking patient!"

Bridget reigned in her exasperation. "No, but she's told me things in confidence. I won't betray that."

There's an uncertain pause.

Franky wanted to hug Bridget and Bridget wanted to pull Franky to her… they both wanted to forget the events of today.

Instead Bridget placed a consoling hand on Franky's shoulder. "I just need to get her through next week's exams and then I can transfer her."

Franky pulled away. Upset, she held Bridget's eyes. "We're supposed to put each other first. I always think of you before me - but you can't do the same."

Bridget exhaled. "You're blowing this out of proportion."

Franky shook her head. She felt like she was always apologising - always sorry for her instincts. But she knew Tolly was a bad seed; she could spot them a mile off. "Either I'm your priority or I'm not. It's that simple. Which is it?"

Bridget held Franky's gaze. "Either you trust me or you don't. It's that simple. Which is it?" Bridget retorted.

A sharp breath escaped Franky. Things seemed to be slipping out of her control and her snarky side kicked-in.

"A little term called transference springs to mind," Doyle taunted.

Bridget faltered, she couldn't believe this argument had escalated so fast. She loved Franky but right now she could happily smack her senseless.

Her defensive streak snapped into play and she heard herself say; "Kelly's always flirting with you - do I say shit? You spend all day with her at the restaurant – with your little in jokes and knowing smiles. You told me there was nothing in it and I believed you."

"It's not the same!" Franky barked.

"Of course it is!" Bridget shouted.

Franky reeled. She wanted to be honest with Bridget but didn't want to expose her weakness. Didn't want to admit that Bridget meant more to her than she clearly did to Bridget.

Franky took a deep breath. "Gidge, you're smart and beautiful and classy… and I'm just not. You could have anyone you want."

Bridget shook her head in disbelief, her eyes filled with sadness. "Do you have any idea how small and dull I feel in comparison to you, Franky? You're this unstoppable ball of energy - everyone wants to be around you. You're a force of nature – if anything - I don't know why you stay with me."

There's a nervous silence. Filled with uncertainty and good intentions.

Franky hooked her finger through Bridget's jean waistband and tugged her close, whispering. "You keep me on my toes, you're the only one who can."

Bridget smiled. She ran her hand along Franky's cheek and leaned in, gently capturing Doyle's lips with her own.

The kiss was soft, forgiving.

As they drew apart Franky smiled sweetly. "So what are you going to tell Tolly?" she asked quietly.

Bridget pulled back. "What?"

Franky tugged out of Bridget's arms. "You're transferring her out of your class asap, right?"

"No," Bridget asserted.

Doyle glared at her girlfriend, feeling betrayed and stormed out the door.

"Franky!" Bridget called after the hot-head.

The door slammed shut behind Franky and Bridget's heart sunk. She always seemed to be chasing after Doyle, trying to make amends. But tonight her anger settled; tonight she felt righteous.

**************

Franky charged down the corridor. She was sick of coming second, of trying to keep Bridget's interest. Fed-up of feeling inadequate and most of all – sick of feeling jealousy claw at her. She hated what she turned into - this petty, small thing. Bile in her throat, envy in her stomach.

She needed to get away, needed time to herself - and secretly she wanted to punish Bridget. Wanted Bridget to feel her absence. Wanted to fill her with guilt and regret. Wanted to hurt her.

**************

When Bridget arrived home the house was shrouded in darkness. Silence met her. She'd expected Franky to stay away but nothing had prepared her for the emptiness of their home. For the vacuum Franky left.

Bridget brushed her teeth and put on her blue satin nightdress; Franky's favourite.

She lay awake, unconsciously waiting for Franky… The clock struck 1 o'clock… 2 o'clock… but Franky didn't appear.

Bridget tried to sleep but the hours ticked by. Time tortured her.

As she lay alone in bed, she wanted to be angry at Franky but she felt too guilty to keep hold of her fury. She could see Franky's side of things – how it might appear that she was taking Tolly's side… but Tolly had no one else in her corner. She needed Bridget. Needed support.

Franky would come round… she was just having a tantrum. Her behaviour in the pub had been out of order… but as Bridget lay there amongst the cold sheets, she decided Tolly wasn't worth losing Franky over. Nothing was worth losing Franky over.

Being with Franky was the happiest Bridget had ever been.

**************

Franky shivered. She tugged her jacket up over her shoulders and closed her eyes tightly; trying to block out thoughts of Bridget and the cold.

Her fist throbbed; bloody and bruised from where she'd punched Bridget's door. Damnit! Why did her temper always get the better of her?

She'd parked round the back of Charlie's restaurant and was sleeping on the backseat of her car. She wanted Gidget to worry, to wonder where she was… but as soon as she'd parked-up, she'd felt petty.

It was chilly. The windows steamed up and she felt a draft against her neck. Franky knew she was punishing herself more than Bridget but her obstinate side wouldn't abate.

Halfway through the night, Franky opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. She wanted to be better than this but Bridget had cut her deeply. That Bridget had been so willing to sacrifice their relationship for Tolly pissed her off.

Franky knew herself too well. She just had to ride-out her anger and in the morning she'd get her head straight. Get things in perspective.

**************

Dawn broke and Franky pounded on the door of the restaurant. She was two hours early for her shift, looked rough as fuck and smelt anything but fragrant.

Blurry-eyed, Charlie opened the door and didn't say a word when Franky asked to use his bathroom. He handed her a towel and sent her in the direction of the shower.

As soon as she started her shift, Kelly was all over her.

"You okay sweetie?" she asked, her voice saccharine and her false eyelashes fluttering.

Franky nodded.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that," Franky mustered.

Kelly smiled coquettishly. "You can always crash at mine if you're having trouble with the old ball-and-chain."

Franky feigned a smile. "Thanks but everything's fine… just had too much to drink last night, that's all."

Doyle whacked two breakfast orders onto the food service counter.

"Sure," Kelly said, not believing a word.

She picked up the plates and sauntered off, in a skirt far too tight, to serve the morning customers.

Franky sighed and turned the hob on. Bridget had been right – Kelly had tried it on with Franky several times. Of course she'd knocked her back - but that wasn't the point. Bridget had trusted her to not cheat, to do the right thing, and she had. Why couldn't she extend that same level of trust to Bridget?

Because she wasn't good enough.

That's the truth. No matter how much she redeemed herself, Franky knew she'd never be good enough for Bridget. She didn't deserve her. And it wasn't Bridget's fault, it was her own fucked-up insecurities…

Franky needed to get past this. Needed to grow up. She was sleeping in her car in a fucking alley because she'd been in a sulk. It was ridiculous!

But then…

She hadn't imagined Tolly's lustful gaze. Hadn't imagined the manipulative way Tolly worked her way into Gidget's affections.

But she had underestimated Bridget. Franky was making drama for drama's sake. She was letting Tolly win. It made her nauseous, that she was playing right into Tolly's hands.

She slammed a pan on the stove. The hot oil sizzled its scorn.

Charlie moved beside her.

Franky swirled the pan and the fat crackled.

"Go sort it out with your girl," he said flatly.

Franky glanced at him. "I'm - "

"Fine?" he finished. "Except you ain't. So go sort it out. You're no good to no one 'til you do," and he snatched the chef's hat off her head.

Franky was about to protest, then smiled gratefully at him. She slid the apron straps over her head and handed it to him.

"Thanks Charlie."

He waved his hand dismissfully.

Franky kissed his cheek and headed out the back door.


	3. Chapter 3

Franky turned her key in the lock and walked into their home, determined.

She heard the sound of the shower running and unconsciously smiled, imagining the steamed-up mirror. Bridget shampooing her hair, eyes squeezed tightly shut, dipping her head under the water to rinse, the water trickling down her tanned skin.

She loved the mornings most. Waking-up to Gidge; still sleepy, a drowsy smile playing on her lips as Franky nuzzled close to her. The weight of Bridget's arm across her waist, the light breath of the blonde against her neck. Tickling her. The warm glow of daylight sneaking into the room. The gentleness of the moment, of having Bridget all to herself; locked in their private sanctuary before facing the world.

She entered the bedroom and was about to call out when she saw Tolly lying in their bed, wrapped in crumpled sheets, fast asleep. Her leg poking out of the covers, a relaxed smile on her lips.

The sight crashed Franky's heart and slammed it through her chest. Then sudden stillness as the world slowed. Everything was being stripped away from her and she felt like she was tumbling helplessly through the air.

The shower stopped and Bridget emerged from the bathroom, towel drying her hair. Her skin glistening with water drops, a towel wrapped tightly around her… she was so beautiful… and for a second Franky wished they'd never met.

The thought of losing Bridget was unbearable and for the first time in her life, Franky didn't know what to do.

Bridget's eyes fell on Franky and her lips automatically curled into a smile, which disappeared when Franky's expression of betrayal hit her.

The blonde faltered, then registered the scene and how it was being misconstrued.

Franky's razor stare tore through her and an ice-cold shiver ran down her spine.

"Franky - " she began but Doyle was already backing out of the room.

Franky hurried towards the front door. She couldn't be here. She had to get away. She flung the door open and darted out into the street.

Franky ran so fast the wind stung her face. Her eyes blurred from the tears now streaming down her face and her body shook… she was in shock. Everything hurt. She tried to breath, her chest heaved and her lungs burned.

The pavement ended and she kept going. Car horns blared as vehicles whizzed past her. Sunlight blinded her; bleaching out the world. Her head whirled and she felt sick… how could Bridget do this to her? To them?

She stopped, exhausted and struggled to catch her breath. She bent double, gasping for air… somewhere behind her someone was calling her name… but she couldn't focus… images of Bridget in Tolly's arms… kissing her… of Bridget raking her nails down Tolly's back, pressing her down into their mattress. In their bed. The images choked her.

Bridget suddenly appeared behind her – out of breath and wearing nothing but a T-Shirt and underpants. Her long wet hair dripping down her back. Her expression wretched.

"It's not what it looks like!" Gidget declared desperately.

Franky laughed and stalked angrily towards Gidget; she towered over Bridget and she's never wanted to inflict pain on Gidget before but right now she wanted to rip Bridget's throat out with her teeth…

"Nothing happened," Bridget promised, her hands reached out and gripped Franky's shoulders – trying to hold Franky back, trying to calm the situation.

Violently Franky seized Bridget's arms and yanked her close. They were nose-to-nose. Franky's body racked with tension; coiled and ready to spring. Her breath was uneven, her nostrils flared and her eyes were murderous.

"What the fuck is she doing in our bed?" Franky demanded.

Her grip tightened and Bridget winced in pain but she held Franky's gaze.

"I slept on the sofa - I swear."

Franky grasped Bridget's chin and glared into her girlfriends face… she wanted so desperately to believe Gidget. She'd never been so consumed with jealousy before.

"Did you fuck her in our bed?" Franky shouted.

Bridget looked fearful but not guilty.

"No," Westfall hissed.

Franky slid her hand down Bridget's neck and clamped her fingers round her throat. Bridget's pulse jumped and her breath became heavy with distress.

"If you're lying to me, Gidge…"

Bridget's eyes didn't waver and her voice was soothing. "I'm not."

Franky's grip on her loosened.

Bridget exhaled; without realising it she'd been holding her breath. Franky's tempestuous side scared her. She didn't see it often and even though she was trained to handle volatile situations - there was something so brutal and terrifying in Franky when she lost her temper.

A car drove past, blasting its horn. It returned them to the present. They were on the high road, Bridget was half naked and their relationship couldn't end like this…

Bridget took a step back. "We can't talk here. Come back to the house, please."

Franky gave a short nod. Bridget wasn't a liar - there had to be an explanation for what she'd seen…

Wordlessly they headed back to the house.

**************

When they entered the living room, Tolly was dressed and sitting on the sofa. She wasn't wearing any make-up and there was a vulnerable air about her. Her eyes were wide and innocent and her hands made quick, nervous movements.

She stood-up anxiously, addressing Franky. "I didn't mean to cause trouble," she said shakily. "Bridget was helping me out, that's all."

Franky's shoulders rolled back and it took every ounce of self-control not to pounce on the girl and beat the living crap out of her.

Sensing Franky's ambivalence, Bridget moved between them. "It's okay Tolly. Why don't you get some brekky?" she suggested.

Tolly nodded and headed towards the kitchen with a little too much familiarly for Franky's liking.

Bridget opened the sliding doors to the back garden and indicated for Franky to follow.

They stepped out onto the patio and Bridget slid the door shut behind them, so they could have some privacy.

"She just showed up on the doorstep," the blonde began.

Franky looked at Bridget with such sadness it corroded Bridget's heart – she'd done this, made Franky doubt herself, doubt their relationship. Bridget reached out to touch Franky's hand, instinctively Doyle flinched, as if Bridget had struck her.

The reaction hurt and Bridget retreated, taking a few steps back.

Franky's tone was cool as her eyes fixed on Bridget. "Tell me exactly what happened last night and don't leave anything out."

Bridget nodded, feeling dazed. Feeling like this was her one and only chance to win Franky's trust back.

**************

As Bridget lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, preoccupied with thoughts of Franky, the hours continued to fly… 3 o'clock came and went… 4 o'clock… then a knock pierced her thoughts. She sat up in bed. It couldn't be Franky – why would she knock? But her heart still soared with hope – maybe she'd forgotten her keys.

Bridget leapt out of bed and rushed to the door. She yanked it open and her heart dropped when she was confronted with Tolly.

Tolly's cheeks were stained with mascara tears and she was unsteady on her feet - she'd clearly been drinking.

"What are you doing here?" Bridget asked softly, shivering in the blast of cool air that swept in. She suddenly felt very exposed; standing there in a flimsy nightdress, her nipples hardening against the taut fabric.

"Can I come in?" Tolly slurred.

Bridget hesitated; she didn't want to encourage Tolly's dependence on her.

Tolly picked-up on her reluctance. "I'm sorry – I shouldn't have come," she mumbled. "But I had nowhere else to go… my mistake… sorry," and she turned to go.

Bridget didn't want to invite Tolly in but her instincts told her not to let the girl leave. It was irresponsible – Tolly's judgement was impaired. Who knows what could befall her - she might try to drive and kill herself or someone else, be attacked or raped or end-up in any number of terrible situations.

"Come in," the psychologist beckoned and stepped aside.

Tolly smiled gratefully at Bridget as she moved past her and stepped into the hall.

Bridget closed the door and led the way into the living room. She turned a lamp on, filling the room with a seductive glow.

Tolly gazed at Bridget, a flicker of lust crossed her face as her eyes traced the outline of Bridget's body, following the curves and contours that the silk nightdress clung to, making the blonde self-conscious.

Bridget folded her arms across her chest, deeply uncomfortable.

"I know it's late," Tolly murmured and swayed slightly. She smiled sweetly at Bridget and seemed to lose her trail of thought.

"What happened?" Bridget asked patiently.

Tolly tilted her head sideways, studying the psychologist. "Franky's a lucky woman, I hope she appreciates you – but I don't think she does… you deserve better…"

Losing her balance, Tolly stumbled and her arm flailed out. Bridget rushed forward and grabbed Tolly's hand, steadying her.

"Sorry," Tolly mumbled, wrapping her fingers around Bridget's hand. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

She swayed again. Bridget gripped the girls' hips, grounding her.

"How much have you had to drink?" Bridget asked.

Tolly leaned closer. "You're so kind… and sexy… like – ridiculously sexy…"

Ignoring the overtures, Bridget guided the girl to the sofa and eased her down onto it.

"I'll get you some water."

Bridget slipped into the bedroom and put on Franky's robe, fastening the belt securely around her waist. She instantly felt shielded. Then she went into the kitchen and poured Tolly a large glass of water.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Tolly called.

"She's working nights this week," Bridget lied.

Tolly's eye sparkled with an emotion Bridget didn't recognise and didn't trust.

Bridget moved towards her student and held out the water glass. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" Bridget pressed and sat in the chair opposite Tolly – deliberately keeping a psychical distance between them.

Tolly sipped the water.

"It was terrible. He kicked me out of the car – in the middle of nowhere – and drove off. I don't know how much more I can take. I know he's my brother but he's out of control. If he stopped snorting that shit, then maybe…"

Bridget's heart went out to the girl but she couldn't keep being her shoulder to cry on. It was becoming tricky. Inappropriate. She needed professional help.

"Have you talked to your parents?" Westfall asked.

"They don't want to know - they're happy in deluded la-la land where he's perfect and drugs don't exist," she smiled tenderly at Bridget. "You're the only one I can talk to."

Tolly reached out and touched Bridget's knee, squeezing gently.

Bridget stood up, brushing Tolly's hand away as she did so. "It's late. You should get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning. Okay?"

Tolly nodded and smirked suggestively. "Where am I sleeping?"

Bridget pulled her best unimpressed, authoritative expression and it wilted Tolly's self-assurance. "You take the bed and I'll sleep on the sofa. But this is just for tonight. Understood?"

Tolly's shoulders slouched, her confidence sapped.

The girl was usually full of bravado which Bridget knew was masking a world of hurt and insecurities. But sometimes, it was hard to sympathise with Tolly. She always took things too far and liked to play the victim when she didn't get her own way. Bridget decided that tomorrow she'd personally escort Tolly to a good friend of hers, who had experience with families of drug abuse cases.

Bridget fetched a nightshirt, a clean towel and set them out on the bed for Tolly, then bid her goodnight and closed the bedroom door.

She sank onto the sofa and wondered where Franky was. She hated it when they fought; everything felt wrong when they were off kilter.

She turned out the lamp and sat in the dark. Everything seemed clearer in the calm stillness of the night. Her fight with Franky suddenly seemed absurd. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the robe; breathing in Franky's scent. It comforted her and eventually she fell asleep to thoughts of Franky.

**************

Franky stared up at the cloudless sky as Bridget finished telling her side of the story.

"And when I woke-up this morning, I used the shower in our room – Tolly was still asleep. That's when you walked in."

Bridget awaited Franky's reaction; waited to see if she was believed. The suspense was torture.

Without hesitation Franky reached out and pulled Bridget close.

Bridget burst with relief. The fear of losing Franky had hit her last night. She couldn't imagine her life without Franky – didn't want to imagine such a future.

Bridget pulled back and gazed into Franky's eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

And they don't usually say it, Franky had a fear that overuse would render it meaningless… but in this moment, Bridget needed to say it, needed Franky to hear it.

"I love you too," the raven haired beauty replied softly.

Bridget smiled and her eyes gleamed with unshed tears and the release of an unbearable tension.

"So what are we going to do about the binge-drinking drama queen?" Franky asked.

"I've arranged a psychologist appointment for her today and I'm going to suggest an intervention for her brother. This can't go on."

Franky nodded. Her eyes had that glow again; the trust had been restored. She cupped Bridget's face and kissed the top of her head affectionately. Bridget slipped her arms around Franky and drew her into a hug.

"I'm sorry for doubting you," Franky whispered, burying her face against Bridget's neck and wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.

The blonde held her close. "I'm sorry too. No one's more important to me than you. I lost sight of that."

Franky gently drew back and placed a tender kiss on Bridget's lips.

The moment was interrupted by a sudden ruckus from inside the house and they both turned to see three burley police officers push through the patio door and stride urgently towards Franky.

They exchanged a puzzled look.

One of the officers grabbed Doyle's arm and twisted it behind her back whilst another pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The third started reading Franky her rights.

"What are you doing? What's she supposed to have done?" Bridget cried out frantically.

"Francesca Doyle you're under arrest for assault," the second cop stated.

Franky looked bewildered and Bridget knew she was innocent; that she had no idea what this bogus charge was about.

Without ceremony, they hauled Franky through the house and out towards the front, where a cop car was waiting.

Bridget trailed behind them, irate. "Who is she supposed to have assaulted?"

The third police officer stood in the doorway and blocked it, preventing her from following. Over his shoulder she watched them bundle Franky into the back of a police car and drive away as he replied. "Victoria Whittaker."

Bridget stilled, her eyes widening. She turned to Tolly, shocked.

Tolly's eyes narrowed with a poisonous glee. She shrugged nonchalantly and for the first time Bridget could see the girl looked ruffled – hair tussled, clothes ripped, a large gash under her eye and a burst lip; injuries she must have inflicted on herself.

Next Bridget noticed the room - overturned furniture and smashed ornaments littered the floor – it looked like one hell of a fight had taken place - and she knew immediately that Tolly had staged the whole thing and called the police. Because she was a spoilt child who hadn't got her way and wanted revenge.

"Your girlfriend should learn to control her temper, especially as she's still on probation," Tolly whispered to Bridget, then turned to the copper, shaking and near hysterical. "She attacked me for no reason - she's an animal! I thought she was going to kill me!"

The police officer was all sympathy and understanding. "It's okay, love. She can't hurt you now. I know this is hard but I need to take your statement, while it's still fresh in your mind. Can you come to the police station with me? It won't take long."

Tolly nodded, letting him guide her to the second police car. She glanced back at Bridget, a look of triumph on her face, before returning to her role as innocent victim for the benefit of the cops, and Bridget's heart sank.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I’ve tried to make this as accurate as possible but I’m British and we have different laws and police procedures… so apologies for any mistakes - I tried my best!

After Franky was hauled off to _Barnhurst_ police station, Bridget shut down and went into professional mode. She called her solicitor, called Franky's parole officer (better he hear it from her), called Charlie and told him not to expect Franky in today and called the University to get cover for her classes. 

Then she got dressed and headed down to the police station.

Bridget drove; gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She was seething – how could Tolly do this? How had she not seen it coming? Why hadn’t she listened to Franky? Because she was too busy playing the crusader, too busy trying to ‘save’ Tolly. _Fuck it._ This was her fault. 

Bridget pulled into the car park at _Barnhurst_ at the same time as her solicitor, Malcolm Humes, arrived. 

When they got out of their respective cars, they moved towards each other.

“How’s my favourite client?” Malcolm asked and kissed Bridget’s cheek in greeting.

“Very pissed off,” she retorted.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get her out.”

Bridget nodded, relaxing slightly at Malcolm’s confident tone.

They entered the Reception area and the Desk Sergeant was belligerently helpful. Bridget stood back, letting Malcolm do the talking, not trusting herself to keep her cool. He discovered that Franky was still being questioned so Malcolm quickly manoeuvred his way into the Interview Room, while Bridget could do nothing but sit and wait.

***********

Franky sat in an impersonal Interview Room; surrounded by austere walls and sterile colours - she couldn’t believe she was in this position again. She’d been charged with assault and detained for questioning. She’d spent two hours telling the cops her side of the story but they didn’t believe her. She’d heard one of the officers mutter something about a leopard never changing its spots and that’s when she knew she was screwed. 

Now Franky wished she had beat the living crap out of Tolly. At least then she would have felt vindicated instead of this burning feeling of injustice that gnawed at her.

She knew Bridget would be doing everything in her power to clear-up this mess but Franky was only too aware of how bad it looked. She had form and as long as Tolly played the victim, it was her word against Tolly's and who would believe an ex-crim and her girlfriend? 

Franky’s only regret was underestimating Tolly. She’d known the girl was trouble but she’d let herself be blindsided. She used to second-guess and outmanoeuvre all the time in _Wentworth._ Freedom had made her soft. 

She rubbed her face wearily. 

The interviewing officers exchanged a smirk, thinking that Franky was finally cracking and that this would be an easy case to close.

There was a knock at the door, the officers looked annoyed at this intrusion.

The door opened and a police officer entered, closely followed by Malcolm Humes. “Ms Doyle’s solicitor is here.”

Franky felt a flood of relief and sent-out a silent thank you to Bridget for being amazing. 

*************

Malcolm paid the sum set forth in the stationhouse bail schedule. Bridget had to put her house up for collateral but it was worth it. Anything to get Franky out of this hellhole.

As soon as Franky stepped into the Reception area, Bridget ran into her arms. The blonde embraced Franky and squeezed her tightly.

“I’m okay,” Franky whispered, returning the force of the hug.

Bridget nodded and they gently pulled part. 

The Desk Sergeant peered coldly at them. “Terms of bail are as follows: you must report to the police every day, you must live at the address specified by your solicitor, you must surrender your passport and you must not go within 500 metres of Victoria Whittaker. Is that understood?”

Franky nodded dumbly.

Bridget pulled Franky’s passport from her bag and handed it over.

“Thanks,” the Desk Sergeant said tersely. Then slid a piece of paper towards Franky. “Sign at the bottom to say you’ve understood the terms of your bail and date it.”

Franky took the pen Malcolm offered and signed her name and filled in the date. She pushed the paper back towards the Desk Sergeant, who smiled for the first time. “You’re free to go,” she said.

Bridget took Franky’s hand while Malcolm placed a protective hand on Bridget’s back and led them both out of the station.

As soon as she stepped out into the open, Franky closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was cool and crisp against her skin. She exhaled slowly, savouring the moment. She never wanted to go back to prison.

***************

Drained, they walked through the front door and were instantly met with the evidence of the ‘fight’ that Bridget hadn’t had time to clear-up. They slowed. Bridget turned away guiltily and headed towards the kitchen.

Franky sat on the sofa, exhausted.

Bridget fetched a dustpan and brush and started to clean-up the debris. A vase her mother bought her as a housewarming present had been smashed to smithereens. The bulb in a lamp had also shattered where it had hit the hardwood floor. She righted the lamp and picked-up an overturned wicker chair, putting the cushions back in place.

As she cleaned, she couldn’t meet Franky’s eye, wracked with guilt that she’d unwittingly unleashed this bedlam on their lives. She poured the last sweepings of glass and porcelain into the bin and sighed.

“I’ll run you a bath,” Bridget mumbled.

As she walked past the sofa, Franky caught her hand and gently tugged Bridget towards her. “This isn’t your fault,” she declared.

Bridget stroked her fingers down Franky’s cheek. “We both know that’s not true but thank you for saying it.”

Franky slipped her arms around Gidget’s waist. “You came through for me today.” 

Bridget averted her eyes.

“Hey,” Franky said softly and pulled Bridget down onto her lap. Franky gazed at her girlfriend. “You did more for me today than anyone ever has. Thank you.”

Bridget’s eyes swelled with tears but she bit them back. “I wish I could have done more. Wish I could have undone this whole mess.”

Franky tightened her grip. “We’ll get through this,” the brunette assured.

Bridget smiled. “I know.” Her expression suddenly grew dark. “I’ll get her to admit the truth even if I have to drag it out of her!”

Bridget’s ferociousness warmed Franky’s heart and her grin widened. “Just don’t get charged with assault whilst trying to clear my name! We can’t both end-up in the clink!”  


Bridget held Franky’s face in her hands, her brows knotted in concentration as she said. “I promise, from now on – you come first. No more bringing my work home. No more going above-and-beyond for my job.”

Franky smiled appreciatively and slid her hands up Bridget’s back, drawing her closer. “Don’t change a thing. Just carry on being you, okay?”

Bridget was touched. She gazed into Franky’s eyes and nodded bashfully.

Franky cupped Bridget’s face, pulled her down and placed a tender kiss on her mouth. “Don’t let her win,” Doyle whispered against her lips.

Bridget buried her face against the crook of Franky’s shoulder. She relished the feel of being in Franky’s arms and realised how close she’d come to losing it all. She wouldn’t let this be the end of them, of Franky’s freedom. She would do whatever she had to to keep Franky safe. 

*************

The next day Franky went in to the restaurant, determined to carry on as normal.  


Charlie greeted her with a Cheshire grin. “Hey firecracker! Thought you were supposed to be staying out of trouble?”  


Franky playfully nudged his arm. “I’m trying Chazzer, believe me.”  


She hung her jacket up by the door and pulled on an apron.  


“Try harder! I got hungry customers, can’t have my best chef behind bars, can I?” he joked and headed back to the serving counter.  


The bell above the restaurant door rang as the morning rush began. Franky was glad of the distraction, cooking breakfast for the starving hordes was just what she needed, and Kelly wasn’t on today so she didn’t have to fend off any unwanted questions.  


Franky shook the tension out of her shoulders and reached for a frying pan. She would have to trust Gidge to work this one out, she was staying well clear of Tolly. The last thing she needed was to break the conditions of her bail.  


*************  


Bridget went into work early. She sat in her office; she didn’t have classes until the afternoon but she wanted to do some investigating. Tolly was sticking to her story and Bridget had to poke holes in it.  


Bridget suspected Tolly had pulled something like this before. It couldn’t be a one-off - that sort of behaviour didn’t appear out of the blue – there would be signs and other incidents. The girl was an unhinged liar desperate for attention. If she could prove that Tolly had form she could prove questionable doubt and Franky would be cleared.  


She called down to human resources and asked for Tolly's file to be sent to her.  


Bridget started with Tolly’s university transcripts. She immediately noted that Tolly had begun two other courses at two different Universities and dropped out of both. Bridget rang the _University of Canberra_ and tracked down Tolly’s ex form teacher. She went on to have several banal conversations with several of Tolly’s lecturers that got her nowhere. The girl had apparently dropped out due to ‘family troubles’ and there didn’t seem to be any animosity from the staff toward the girl.

It wasn’t until she reached Tolly’s last placement at _Griffith University_ and got through to Antonia Nya that her suspicions were confirmed.

“Did Tolly display any… unusual behaviour?” Bridget asked gingerly.  


She heard Antonia breathe in sharply, felt her reservation in waves down the phone. “She was going through a lot,” Antonia said with forced casualness. She sounded like a woman who didn’t want to be caught-out saying too much.  


“I was just wondering if she had any run-ins with other students?”  


Antonia remained reticent. “Not that I recall.”  


“Or teaching staff?” Bridget pressed.  


There was a long, tense pause.  


_Bingo,_ Bridget thought.  


“I’m not prepared to comment on - ”  


“She did it to you, didn’t she?” Bridget interjected.  


“I can’t help you,” Antonia said briskly.  


“She’s done it again. She’s stitched-up someone I care about and they may end-up in prison. And it won’t stop there – Tolly will keep doing it, destroying people’s lives and reputations, thinking she’s untouchable - unless we stop her.”  


Antonia sighed shakily. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever she’s done to you, I really am… but one of the conditions of her dropping the charges against me was that I sign a confidentiality agreement. My hands are tied, I can’t discuss the case with anyone.” 

Bridget bit her lip. _Shit._ She was desperate – hope still puffed-up in her chest. “Would anyone else at _Griffith_ be prepared to talk about it?” 

“Her parents wrote a fat cheque for the University the day she left, no one here has a bad word to say about the Whittaker’s.”  


Bridget clenched her fists. _Damn it!_

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you,” Antonia mumbled, then hung up.  


Bridget set her phone down. She felt deflated.  


Her eyes landed on a photo of her and Franky which had pride of place on her desk. It was taken on their first holiday together, to Darwin. They’d spent the first day bike riding through the tropical parklands, the second traversing through Mindil Beach sunset market and visiting the Museum, the third swimming beneath waterfalls in _Litchfield National Park_. It had been an incredible three days. The photo was taken on their last night, in the hotel foyer. They were tanned, cheerfully exhausted and only had eyes for each other.

Bridget normally hated photographs of herself but there was something in her eyes, shining and pure, as she gazed lovingly at Franky – who was roaring with laughter at something. She saw the joy on both their faces and her resolve strengthened. She refused to be defeated. She would find a way out of this…  


She signed-on to the internet and began a search for Griffith University + lecturer + police + Victoria Whittikar.  


***********  


Franky was on a cigarette break. The rush was over until lunch time, her feet were numb and her back ached from all the darting around she’d been doing. Her ears were still ringing from the shouts of orders and the endless clatter of cutlery and porcelain and the hiss of steam rising in the kitchen. It was a good ache; satisfying. She sat out the back, on the fire escape smoking a ciggy. She quit ages ago, at Bridget’s request, but right now she needed the nicotine hit.  


She switched on her mobile phone and rang Gidget, who picked-up immediately.  


“Hey Spunky,” she said chirpily.

“How’s it going?” the blonde asked.  


“Good,” Franky flicked the ash off the end of her cig. “What about you? Nailed the bitch yet?”  


Bridget snorted. “Not yet… but I’ve uncovered some very interesting info.”  


Doyle took another drag. “Such as?”  


“She accused a lecturer at her last Uni of sexual assault, the charges were later dropped and it was all hushed-up. She also had a high school girlfriend, Ingrid Loras, who met with a car accident a week after they broke-up. Ingrid ended-up with three broken ribs, a broken leg and a fractured pelvis – she claimed Tolly was responsible for the accident. The police found the breaks of Ingrid’s car had been tampered with but they couldn’t prove anything.”  


“Shit!” Franky exclaimed.  


“And then there’s her childhood friend, Elliott Brahm, who lived next door. After beating Tolly to become class Prefect in High School – Elliott’s house mysteriously caught fire. Luckily no one was hurt but the Brahm family sold-up and moved away soon after.”  


“All circumstantial, we need hard evidence,” Franky pointed out with frustration.  


Bridget took a deep breath. “I know. That’s why I’m going to have to do something that you’re not going to like it.”

Franky tensed, already on edge. “What?”  


***********  


Bridget drummed her fingers on her desk top, then bit the bullet. She picked-up the disposable mobile phone she’d just bought (Franky told her to cover her tracks in case this plan went south, which meant making sure the calls couldn’t be traced back to her) and dialled Tolly’s number.  


It rang three times.  


“Hello?”  


“It’s me, don’t hang up,” Bridget implored.  


“What do you want?” Tolly sounded suspicious.  


Bridget reigned her temper in. “Can we talk?”  


“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Tolly retorted.  


The psychologist used her sweetest tone. “I’ve thought about you a lot… can’t seem to stop. No matter what I do. I just wanted to see you, if that’s okay?” She heard Tolly’s breathe hitch and continued. “I thought we could meet for a drink.”  


“So you can talk me into dropping the charges against your girlfriend?”  


“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” Bridget lied.  


There was a lengthy pause.  


“Really?” Tolly sounded buoyant.  


“I realised I was lying to myself, that I didn’t have a future with her. It’s you I want. Look, can we meet? I’d rather say this face-to-face and not over the phone… it’s so impersonal, don’t you think?” 

Another pause.  


“What makes you think I’m still interested?” Tolly asked.  


Bridget kept her voice light. “Meet me at _The Watering Hole_ , tonight at 7pm. Let’s see if there’s anything worth pursuing.”  


“Don’t keep me waiting,” Tolly warned and hung up.  


Bridget clicked her tongue in annoyance and let out a breath. Now came the hard part.  


**********  


Bridget set her mobile phone to record, slipped it in her jacket pocket and then stepped into the bar. This was extreme but she hoped to get Tolly to say something incriminating. Tolly might be sneaky but she was young and capricious – and had a temper. Bridget felt sure that she could trip her up. 

Bridget was early and picked a table by the corner, intimate and secluded, so their conversation couldn’t be overheard. Her palms were sweaty and her heart beat a million miles a minute but she was practiced at exuding a calm exterior.  


She ordered a bottle of red wine and two glasses, poured herself a generous glass for dutch courage and sipped leisurely as she waited. Her eyes glued to the door. 

Twenty minutes later Tolly arrived - fashionably late. She sashayed towards Bridget, brimming with confidence. She was wearing a black Donna Karen silk-chiffon halter neck dress. Her perfectly tanned back and toned arms exposed. Flawless make-up. Her dark tresses pulled back and heaped elegantly on top of her head. She’d even managed to disguise the cut and bruise under her eye and a deep red lipstick covered the split lip she’d inflicted on herself.  


Her manner was relaxed, even flirtatious. She smiled charmingly at Bridget as she reached the table.  


Bridget swallowed her indignation. Here was Tolly swanning about, utterly carefree and poor Franky was working her ass off, struggling to keep her life together.  


“You look nice,” Bridget said.  


Tolly smirked as she took the seat beside the blonde and placed her clutch purse on the table. “So do you. I like you in leather. Or rather… the idea of stripping you out of leather.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.  


Bridget shifted her weight, slightly away from Tolly. The urge to hit the presumptuous girl was proving strong.  


“So, what did you want to talk about?” Tolly asked playfully and reached for the spare wine glass, quickly filling it.  


“I thought we could discuss what we’re going to do about this… attraction.”  


Tolly smiled haughtily and leaned forward. “I knew you felt it too.”  


Bridget kept her features schooled, trying desperately not to betray her contempt. “I’ve been fighting it since we met,” Bridget said softly.  


Tolly’s eyes gleamed with triumph and her hand fluttered to her neck, playing with a loose strand of hair. “Why didn’t you let me touch you, that night I came to your house?”  


“You were upset, I didn’t want to take advantage,” Westfall replied.  


Tolly reached out and covered Bridget’s hand with her own. Instinctively Bridget pulled away and a look of hurt consumed Tolly’s face.  


Bridget looked around nervously and gave Tolly a timid smile. “I’m still your teacher. Nothing can happen between us until you’ve graduated.”  


This seemed to annoy Tolly. She pursed her lips together.  


“But,” Bridget added hastily. “You only have another three months left. I can wait. It will be difficult, but we’ll be together soon.” 

Tolly’s lips thinned with displeasure.  


Bridget gulped back her trepidation and reached out and took Tolly’s hand. She squeezed gently, giving her best reassuring smile. It worked - Tolly relaxed and smiled brightly.  


The girl stroked Bridget’s knuckles lightly. “I can wait - if that’s what you want. I never intended to get you in trouble, I hope you know that. I would never hurt you. I just couldn’t stand to see a woman of your calibre being wasted on that… hooligan. You see that now, don’t you?” 

Bridget nodded mutely.  


“She’s coarse and uncultured. How on earth did you put up with her for so long?”  


Bridget clenched her teeth, then relaxed her jaw. “It was difficult at times.”  


Tolly nodded sympathetically and took a swig of wine.  


Bridget took the opportunity, keeping her tone as neutral as possible. “There’s one thing I’m curious about. Why did you do it?”  


Tolly immediately looked alert. She gave a snide smirk; clearly pleased by her antics and their consequences. “Because I wanted your attention. I don’t like to share. Franky was an unwelcome distraction, so I got rid of her. I did you a favour. She would have held you back – but with me on your arm we could really go places.”  


Bridget sucked in a breath. Tolly was loop-the-loop bat shit crazy. Bridget kept her expression impartial and her voice calm as she said; “Did you plan it?”  


Tolly shrugged. “No. I just saw an opportunity. The police love to save a damsel in distress and I knew Franky had previous… it was too easy really.”  


Bridget decided to give the girl one chance to save herself, then on her head be it. “I’d like you to drop the charges,” she requested.  


Tolly snorted with laughter and her eyes filled with disdain. “Why would I do that?”  


“I want us to start fresh – no baggage. Clean slate.”  


Tolly waved her hand dismissively. “She’s got nothing to do with you anymore, why do you care what happens to her?”  


“I don’t,” Bridget stated. “I care what happens to you.”  


Tolly gazed at Bridget with surprise. “What are you talking about?”  


Bridget held the girls eye. “You lied. To the police, to your family, to everyone. Playing games with other people’s lives the way you do is reprehensible. I worry about you, about why you feel compelled to fabricate these stories.”

Tolly’s gaze turned cold but her voice came out weak. “I thought you understood…”  


“I do,” Bridget said softly. “I know you’ve had a hard time lately and maybe making-up stories makes you feel in control, gives you a feeling of invincibility when so much in your life is uncertain… but Tolly, it’s not good for you. Lying to get what you want.”  


Tolly looked defiant. “It got me you, didn’t it?” she snapped. “So I must be doing something right.”  


Bridget sighed. “Manipulating people into doing what you want isn’t a way to live. You strike me as a very unhappy, troubled girl. And you could be happy, if you let yourself.”  


Tolly bit her bottom lip and for a moment, she looked as if she were wavering. For an instant Bridget hoped the girl would see sense and volunteer to tell the truth to the police herself. Then she saw Tolly’s guard go up, saw her square her shoulders and set her jaw - ready for war - and those hopes were dashed.

“I know what you want me to say – that Franky didn’t attack me but I won’t. You’ll go running back to her if I do. That’s the only reason you’re here, isn’t it?” She raised her hand to silence Bridget. “No – don’t answer that. You can’t see her for what she really is. She’s got a short fuse, she would have attacked someone, for real, sooner or later. It’s the nature of the beast. At least this way, my way – no one got hurt.” 

Tolly pushed back her chair and stood. She looked at Bridget with regret. “We could’ve been electric together. I hope you know what you’ve thrown away and for what? A low-life crim.”  


She stalked away, her dress swaying behind her.  


Bridget let out a rattled breath. She waited a few minutes, to ensure Tolly had gone, then shakily she got to her feet. She left the bar and headed towards her car. 

Once inside she pulled her mobile from her pocket and checked that it had recorded everything. It had. She closed her eyes and a smile tugged at her lips, hopefully it would be enough to convince the police of Tolly’s deception.  


**************  


When Bridget got home Franky was curled up on the sofa fast asleep, a law book lying open on her chest. Her eyes flickered and her lips twitched as she dreamed. Bridget stood over her, bewitched.  


Slowly, Bridget sat down on the edge of the settee. She gently lifted the book and closed it, setting it down on the coffee table. Then she ran her fingers lightly across Franky’s cheek. Doyle leaned into Bridget’s touch and hummed contentedly. Bridget smiled.

“Hey sleepy head,” the blonde cooed.

Franky’s eyes opened - she was always a light sleeper. She looked momentarily dazed, then sat up, regaining her bearings. “Must've dozed off…” she murmured.

Bridget looked into Franky’s piercing blue eyes and her breath stilled, like it always did when their proximity was this close. Franky gave her one of those gazes. The unwavering, searching kind and she instantly felt a shiver run through her. 

“How’d your date with psycho bitch go? Did she fall for it?”

Bridget allowed herself to smile. “Yes. I only hope it’s enough.”

Just then a scuffling noise pulled their attention towards the front door. A shadow passed in front of the glass panelling as someone pushed a manila envelope under the door.

Bridget got to her feet and hurried towards the front door. She picked the envelope up off the welcome mat and yanked the door open. She poked her head out into the night air and glanced up the garden path – there was no sign of anyone. The street was silent and shrouded in darkness. 

“Who was it?” Franky called.

“They’re gone.”

Bridget walked back into the house, shutting and bolting the door behind her. She turned her attention to the envelope and ripped it open. Inside was a file. Bridget pulled it out and as her eyes skimmed the document a broad grin coated her face.

Franky stared at her girlfriend with curiosity. “What is it?”

Bridget moved towards the sofa elatedly. “Christmas just came early!”


	5. Chapter 5

Franky swung her legs off the sofa, pressing her feet firmly against the floor. “Jeeze Gidge, give a girl a heart attack from suspense why don't ya?”

Bridget handed the file to Doyle and sat beside her.

Resting the dossier on her lap, Franky’s eyes spilled over the first page. It was a police report of Tolly's charges against Antonia Nye – and their retraction.

“Holy crap!” Franky’s eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead and she glanced at Bridget. “Who’d you reckon our guardian angel is?”

“Antonia Nye. This is the only way she could help us - anonymously.”

Franky’s eyes sparkled with hope. “Between this and your 007 act tonight we can blow Tolly’s trumped-up charges out of the water!” Franky flung her arms around Bridget in unbridled joy. She hugged her tightly and then covered her girlfriend’s face in a whirl of kisses. “You're the best! I bloody love ya!”

Bridget laughed and drew back. She took the file from Franky and placed it safely on the coffee table, then turned her full attention on the brunette; her gaze shimmering with intensity. “Oh yeah? Prove it,” she challenged.

Franky grinned, her eyes already smouldering, and leaned forward, capturing Bridget’s mouth with her own. She kissed Bridget so softly their lips barely touched. Her fingers gently caressed Bridget’s jaw before threading into her mane of blonde hair. Her lips lingered, brushing lightly over Bridget’s. Then she caught Bridget’s bottom lip between her own and sucked gently. Bridget made a small moan in the back of her throat, then parted her lips. Franky’s mouth pressed hungrily against hers, deepening the kiss. Bridget slid her arms about Franky, pulling her closer and the brunette tipped Gidget back against the sofa.

“I know just how I’m going to prove it,” she whispered against Bridget’s lips.

While Franky’s mouth continued to explore Bridget’s in a long, sensuous kiss, her hands leisurely stroked up and down Bridget’s sides. The blonde released a contented sigh. Doyle reached down and unbuckled Bridget’s belt and unzipped her jeans. Bridget lifted her hips and breaking the kiss, Franky peeled the denim from her in one smooth move. She threw them over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving Bridget’s. 

Franky raked her nails along the outside of Bridget’s bare thighs; scrapping skin. Bridget’s pulse pounded erratically at the intimate caress and her breathing became heavy. Franky kissed Bridget again, whose soft, hot mouth met hers eagerly. Their kisses were becoming insistent, needy… her hands brushed across Bridget’s hips and whispered across Bridget’s abdomen, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their stead. 

Bridget parted her legs and Franky moved between them, passionately she kissed Bridget’s neck, alternating between open-mouthed kisses, fleeting licks and the scrape of teeth – the blonde’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact.

Franky started to unbutton Bridget’s blouse. Unable to wait, Bridget wrapped her arms around Franky’s waist and tried to sneak them under Franky’s top – she wanted to feel Franky’s skin, needed the friction, craved the connection of skin against skin. 

Franky pulled back slightly and gipped Bridget’s wrists. “Uh-uh Gidge,” she chided and pushed Bridget’s hands away. Frustrated, Bridget pouted. It was so cute Franky couldn’t stop a huge grin spreading over her face. “This is your reward,” she murmured, grazing her cheek against Bridget’s as she bit down on the blonde’s earlobe. 

The salacious tone of her voice sent a delicious tremor through Bridget and when Franky drew back and peered down at her girlfriend, Bridget’s bright blue orbs had turned stormily dark, filled with desire.

Franky resumed her task; undoing the buttons of Bridget’s blouse until the thin material of the shirt fell open. Franky’s eyes roamed over Bridget’s body and she licked her bottom lip unconsciously. She drank in the blonde’s toned body; the creamy ridges and swells and curves… the elegant contours of her neck, the gentle slope of her shoulders, the small but pert breasts clad in a lacy bra… she took a moment to admire the nude coloured bra in contrast to the electric pink undies Gidge was wearing. Franky loved that Gidget never wore matching underwear, loved that no one knew this but her. 

She bent her head and captured Bridget’s mouth in a searing kiss. The blonde moaned into her mouth, tongues met and caressed, until they were both breathless. Franky popped the clasp of Bridget’s bra, which opened in the front. Hastily she pushed it aside and took a moment to admire what she’d uncovered before beginning a procession of kisses down Bridget’s body. Her dark tresses tickled Bridget's skin as her mouth trailed downwards, her warm breath swept across the exposed flesh, making Bridget tremble, as she covered every inch of creamy smooth skin she could. 

Franky swirled her tongue around the swell of Bridget’s left breast, traced her ribcage, circled her belly button and trailed open-mouthed kisses across her hip. The sensation was incredible and Bridget swallowed hard as arousal blazed through her as Franky's luscious mouth devoured her.

Franky moved back up and lavished attention on Bridget’s chest. Her left hand cupped Gidget’s breast and squeezed gently while her tongue brushed lightly over Gidge’s other breast. She swirled her tongue around the nipple and it hardened. She drew it into her mouth and scrapped her teeth over it, simultaneously pinching Bridget’s other nipple between her thumb and index finger. The blonde arched into Franky’s touch, eyes squeezed shut as she concentrated on the feel of Franky’s hot, wet mouth on her. She groaned loudly and Franky’s free hand moved between them, trailing lower… then ghosted between Bridget’s legs; her fingertip stroked Bridget through her underpants; she was soaked.

“You’ve been a good girl,” Franky said huskily, voice ladened with sex and promise. 

She peered up at Bridget, who opened her eyes and met Franky’s gaze. The raw desire she saw housed there made Bridget’s whole body flush – a pink blush rose on her chest and spread to her face. She exhaled sharply through her nose, tingling with anticipation. Franky’s lust-filled gaze made her stomach flip and her heart hammer.

Franky slid to the floor, kneeling before Bridget. Maintaining eye contact, she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of Bridget’s underpants and pulled them down. Once she’d stripped Bridget of the undergarment, she flung it to the floor. 

“Such a good girl and good girls deserve to come,” Franky’s voice is low and playful and sent a tremor through Bridget. The blonde’s eyes sparkled and her lips parted. Her clitoris throbbed, her nipples tightened and her temperature soared.

Franky ran her hands up the insides of Bridget’s toned thighs. Eager fingers dug into bare flesh as she nudged Bridget’s legs apart and felt the heat radiating off her lover in waves. She breathed in Bridget’s musky sent; it was intoxicating. Franky marvelled at how Bridget’s body was always so responsive. As she moved between Bridget’s legs, she heard Bridget’s breath hitch, felt her body hum with excitement. 

Franky lowered her head and with the tip of her tongue swept through Bridget's slick heat. Bridget’s head fell back against the cushions of the sofa and a moan of pleasure escaped her. Franky’s fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of Gidget’s thighs, spreading her wider. She dipped her head again and made firm, leisurely strokes with the flat of her tongue. Tasting her. Lapping at her. Delighting in her. Careful to touch everywhere but Bridget’s clit.

“Oh! Oh God!” Bridget babbled. “Franky… oh my… Oh!”

With a vigorous, broad sweep of her tongue, Franky licked her way towards Bridget's clitoris, then devilishly drew back again. Bridget’s hips rose – seeking Franky’s mouth, chasing the touch she longed for, where she longed for it most. Franky wrapped her arms around Bridget’s thighs, pinning her hips to the sofa, then, with the tiniest pressure, Franky circled Bridget’s clit. Drawing slow, tight circles. Nearer and nearer Bridget’s throbbing clit. Deliberately driving her to the brink without release, then she slipped lower and circled the entrance beneath. Bridget writhed under her, obscenely wet, heels digging into Franky’s back.

Pulling back, Franky purred. “You taste so good," and then gently blew against Bridget’s sex. 

“Oh!” Bridget gasped at the warm air that skimmed across her overheated flesh.

Franky nuzzled her girlfriend’s inner thigh. Licking and biting her way back towards Bridget’s throbbing centre.

With a mischievous smirk Franky lowered her head, administering firm pulses with her tongue; coaxing and caressing, teasing and tantalizing. Bridget whimpered and her fingers reached down and tangled in Franky’s hair, urging her on, wanting her to go harder and faster. Franky circled Bridget's entrance, then positioned her tongue at Bridget’s opening and pushed inside. Bridget gasped. Franky darted her tongue in and out several times with fast flicks. 

Bridget’s body quivered as the fire in her toes built and spread to her whole body. Her fingers tugged unconsciously at Franky’s hair. She made a strangled sound as her clit pulsated. Franky hummed, sending delicious vibrations through her. Bridget shuddered, her muscles tensed and her walls clenched around Franky’s tongue. Franky’s grasp on the blonde’s thighs tightened and she drove her tongue in deeper, eager to give Bridget pleasure - wanting her to come hard.

Bridget panted as Franky continued to work her into a frenzy. Doyle hit a sensitive spot and Bridget bucked beneath her and let out a strangled sob; her entire body shook. Franky’s unrelenting tongue was exquisite torture. Shaking hands released Franky’s hair and moved to her shoulders, where fingers gripped tightly and fingernails dug in hard enough to leave marks. Franky glanced up; Bridget’s eyes were squeezed shut, her hair mussed, chest rising and falling rapidly and she was biting down on her lip hard to muffle her cries. Franky drew her tongue out and gave Bridget’s slit a long sweeping lick, then pulled back, a smile on her lips as she waited.

“Don’t stop!” Bridget cried hoarsely.

Franky traced circles around Bridget’s knee with her index finger. “Are you close?”

“Yes!” she panted.

“You want to come?” Franky placed a tender kiss on the inside of Bridget’s thigh.

A jolt shot through Bridget at the intimate kiss, rendering her speechless.

“You want to come?” Franky repeated and bit her lover’s thigh; punishment for not answering. 

Words lodged in Bridget’s throat. She was desperate for release… at this point she’d say anything… do anything Franky told her to. She needed her touch so badly.

“Ask nicely, Gidge.” 

“I – I…”

“Ask me to let you come.”

“Please… please let me come,” the blonde pleaded.

There was nothing more that Franky enjoyed than watching Bridget come undone. There was such trust in it, such vulnerability, such love.

Franky yielded. She’d drawn it out long enough… Bridget liked it slow but this was bordering on torturous. She lowered her head between Bridget’s legs and fastened her mouth to Bridget. With her tongue she circled her clit lightly, then latched her mouth over the swollen nub and gently sucked. Bridget cried out and her back arched off the sofa. 

“There! Yes! Yes!” she urged. 

Franky gave her slit a long hard lick before moving back up and grazing Bridget’s clit with her teeth. Bridget let out a shriek and her thighs instinctively clenched tighter as her juices flooded Franky’s tongue. This spurred Franky on – she increased the pressure and speeded-up her rhythm. Bridget flung her hands behind her and gripped the back of the sofa. She held on for dear life as her hips thrust up, of their own volition, pressing against Franky's mouth. She had no control left over her body. Another lick, another bite… another delicious tremor jolted through her, sensations overwhelmed her and white heat exploded behind her eyes.

“Oh!” Bridget howled, sweating and shaking. 

Suddenly the breath was knocked out of her and she went rigid. Her head fell back, her eyes slammed shut and she cried out; unrestrained and fervent. Franky felt another rush of moisture against her mouth and she held steadfastly onto Bridget as her climax hit. 

Bridget screamed Franky’s name as her orgasm ripped through her, sending her toppling over into bliss.

Franky lifted her head and watched Bridget, utterly transfixed. She loved this part; the vision of Bridget in the throes of orgasm was glorious. She felt Bridget’s aftershocks and smiled, riding them out until, with one last sob, Bridget went limp. There was something so satisfying about making Bridget come… she never tired of it, never wanted to do anything but this…

Bridget released her steel grip on the sofa and collapsed backwards, dissolving against the cushions and gasping for breath. 

Grinning smugly, Franky wiped her mouth and chin on her sleeve and moved up to sit beside Gidge on the sofa. She buried her face in Bridget’s neck, tasting the salty sweat that laced the blonde’s throat. She trailed adoring kisses along Bridget’s throat and gently bit the sensitive flesh just beneath her ear. Then waited patiently for Bridget to recover.

Still hazy, Bridget opened her eyes; completely spent. She felt like she was floating. Bridget took deep, ragged breathes. When her pulse started to slow and her mind began to clear, she licked her dry lips and smiled lovingly up at the brunette. 

“That was some Thank You,” she whispered.

Franky grinned. “Better than a card?”

Bridget laughed. “Definitely.” Bridget’s arms reached up and encircled Franky’s neck. “Come here,” she commanded and tugged Franky down into a tender kiss. 

When their lips parted, she held Franky close and they pressed their foreheads together.

“I’m never giving you up… no matter what happens,” Franky promised, her doubt suddenly shining through. “Even if I end-up back inside, you’ll always be my girl.”

Bridget scowled, not liking the sudden defeatism in Franky’s tone. She cupped Franky’s face and caressed her cheek. “You’re not going anywhere. We’ll fix this. We have proof now.”

Franky gave a small nod, her eyes still tempests. “Okay,” she mumbled, because despite her uncertainty, she is sure of Bridget. 

She smiled and Bridget tilted her head upwards, claiming Franky’s mouth. When they parted Franky stroked several strands of hair, damp with sweat, away from Gidget’s face. “I kinda love you,” she said quietly.

Bridget trailed her fingertips across Franky’s swollen lips. “I kinda noticed,” she teased and pulled Franky into another ardent kiss.

**************

First thing in the morning Bridget slipped out of bed, made an incredibly strong pot of coffee, scanned a copy of the police report and emailed it to Malcolm, along with an mp3 recording of her conversation in the bar with Tolly.

She was seated at the kitchen counter sipping a cup of piping hot java when he called. 

“I'll get back to you once I've had a chance to fully review the material,” he promised. “The audio recording is inadmissible in court but we can use it as leverage to get the police to drop the charges.”

“What about Tolly?” Bridget asked.

“What do you mean?” he queried.

“Can we bring charges against her? Make her face-up to the consequences of her actions? Maybe she would accept psychiatric help as part of her rehabilitation.”

She heard Malcolm suck in a doubtful breath before he answered. “You could sue her for libel or slander. Technically her crimes are misdemeanours rather than criminal offences so an arrest is unlikely. If you really want to go there – it’s extreme – but you could have her charged with GBH as a result of the mental anguish Franky suffered. But it would be difficult to prove and I don’t think Franky wants to go down that road, do you?” He paused. “I suggest we take one thing at a time. Let’s get Franky off the hook first, then consider our options.”

Bridget pinched her nose. “You’re right. That’s the most important thing. Thanks Malcolm.”

“Talk to you later.” 

“Bye.”

They hung up.

Bridget put the phone down and turned to see Franky standing in the bedroom doorway, fully dressed and leaning against the frame, arms folded across her chest, her expression inscrutable.

“You can’t save everyone Gidge,” she said.

“I know,” Bridget sighed. “It's just such a waste... if Tolly could learn to control her temper and recognise her disruptive behaviour before it escalates she could - ”

Franky crossed the room, grabbed her by the waist and abruptly kissed her. The kiss was heady and intense.

Bridget drew back and needed a moment to collect herself before opening her eyes. “What was that for?” she murmured breathlessly.

“You never let up, do you? I've never met anyone so bloody determined,” Franky declared and smiled. That genuine, heartfelt smile that Bridget adored.

Bridget took Doyle’s hands in hers and laced her fingers through Franky’s. “I know – I’m a bleeding heart liberal. I just hope you can put up with me because I plan on being around you for a long time.”

Franky shrugged. “I guess,” then she grinned cheekily, picked-up her jacket, slung it over her shoulder and stole another kiss. “I knew you were defective when we started-up, so I’ve got no one to blame but myself!” 

She winked and Bridget slapped her rear as she headed for the door. 

“See you later Spunky!” Franky called over her shoulder and blew the blonde a kiss before walking out the door.

Bridget rolled her eyes, then gave into a smile.

**************

When Bridget walked into the Uni staffroom her colleagues smiled at her but seemed slightly weary. Bridget felt her stomach muscles tighten. 

She got her cup from the cupboard and filled it with steaming hot coffee. Then noticed that several of her colleagues were giving her side-ways glances but she ignored their apprehension and chatted away about the forthcoming grant proposal for the psych department until they relaxed and conversation seemed to flow easily again.

The first bell went. Bridget drained her cup, quickly rinsed it and set-off. She had a busy schedule today; a morning lecture followed by a practical workshop and two seminars in the afternoon. She also had to prep the student assessments due at the end of the week and had several one-on-one tutorials for second year students who needed help on an essay.

Bridget swung by her office to collect the teaching materials for her lecture. She noticed the odd looks she got in the corridor and whispered conversations as she passed – she was sure the rumour mill was working overtime. Tolly wasn’t popular but she was well known; wealth and influence still played their part in the fabric of this University. Bridget didn’t know what they were saying and she didn’t want to know. She was used to weathering classroom gossip - coming out in high school had trained her well. It’s where she’d learnt to maintain a calm façade, as if all those cruel names and nasty words couldn’t touch her. _Never let them see you weak_ was her mantra.

She arrived at the lecture hall early and started to set-up.

When her students arrived and started to fill the room, she was relieved to see Tolly’s seat was empty. While Franky wasn’t allowed within 500 metres of Tolly, she didn’t put it past the girl to show up to class like nothing had happened. Just to rub salt into the wound.

Bridget took up her position on the lecture stand and flipped her notes open. She had to stop herself from laughing at the subject of her lecture; _The Neurobiology of Mental Illness._

“Okay guys, settle down,” she called out.

The room fell silent and over two hundred faces turned towards her.

“As you all know – or should know by now,” there was a sprinkling of snickers from the class and Bridget smiled. “Psychiatric disorders occur as a result of a specific pathology in the brain. Yet the diagnosis is made primarily through diagnostic interviews. There is currently no single objective biological marker for any psychiatric disorder. Cognitive control refers to processes that allow us to adapt our behaviour according to our internal goals and external environmental demands. Such processes afford us the capacity to control our thoughts, feelings, and actions. The failure of cognitive control processes in the brain is widely believed to underlie many psychiatric disorders,” she began and was relieved that her students seemed as rapt as usual. 

Her shoulders relaxed and the knot in her stomach loosened. She flipped to the first slide and the projector whirred into life. 

She glanced around at her pupils, then continued. “The aim of this lecture is to explore the breakdown of cognitive control in different psychiatric disorders such as OCD, ADHD, schizophrenia and addiction. We will go on to discuss how different types of treatment such as neuropharmacology and deep-brain stimulation are hypothesised to benefit psychiatric patients through restoring control in later lectures.”

************

Franky went into work with a bounce in her step and an impish grin on her lips.

Charlie was prepping for breakfast when she arrived. His eyes warmed at the carefree sight of her. “Good news I take it?”

She slipped her jacket off and threw it over the hook on the back of the door. “Yep. The nut job is going down!”

Charlie gave her a half hug, delighted. “That’s great - now getting peelin’!” and he indicated the large batch of potatoes in the sink.

Franky quirked an eyebrow at him as she rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in. “You’re a real slave driver, you know that Charlie.”

“You young ‘uns just ain’t used to hard work,” he teased. “Now quit your gripin’ and get a peelin’!”

Franky mock saluted him.

************

After her lecture Bridget was called into the Chancellor’s office. 

It was a gloomy room. The floors, walls and desk were dark mahogany - oppressive. The windows were narrow and airless. Books lined the shelves behind the Chancellor’s desk but Bridget doubted he’d read any of them; he was all about appearances. Several prestigious qualifications sat smugly in frames and littered the walls but they instilled no confidence in Bridget.

She smiled warmly at Chancellor Lucas Romley, who stood as she entered. He indicated the chair opposite his.

“Take a seat, Dr Westfall.”

She did, feeling nervous. She crossed her legs, straightened her shoulders and leaned back in her chair - exuding calmness and composure.

“I just had a phone call from Mrs. Whittaker.”

Bridget clenched her jaw but remained silent.

“Her daughter Victoria Whittaker is in your form class, is that correct?”

Bridget nodded, her heart racing. 

The Chancellor pressed his hands together in a steeple, his tone measured, almost rehearsed. “It seems Victoria has decided to leave the University. She will not finish the term or the course.”

Bridget’s eyes widened. She’d half expected this but it was still a surprise. If she was honest, Bridget was relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with Tolly on a daily basis but part of her wished they could have found a better resolution than this.

“I understand there has been some… personal altercation… between the two of you outside campus premises,” Romley said, choosing his words carefully.

“Yes,” Bridget replied, deciding to keep her answers short (and trying not to give him any more ammo).

“I understand the police have been involved,” he pressed.

Bridget nodded. “It was an unfortunate situation that escalated and is now being handled by the police.”

He nodded sympathetically. “You’re a bloody good teacher, Bridget.”

Bridget’s heart sank and she held her breath, waiting for the axe to fall.

“I’d hate to lose you over this. You’re popular with staff and students alike but the University has its reputation to consider,” he paused. “It’s _unsullied_ reputation.”

Bridget folded her hands in her lap and met his eye, her stare cool and unfaltering. Her voice firm and calm. “It certainly does. I have done nothing to bring disrepute to this University. Victoria Whittaker saw fit to falsely accuse my partner of assault and the police are dealing with it. Why should the University punish me for the actions of someone else? Especially when I am the injured party? If anything, the University should be seen to support its staff through unfounded, malicious allegations rather than deserting them and facing a tribunal for unfair dismissal, wouldn’t you say?”

He studied her for a moment and smiled nervously. “I just wanted to assure you that of course the University will be backing you, wholeheartedly.”

Bridget smiled tightly. “That’s good to know.”

“Feel free to stop by my office if there’s anything else I can do to help,” he offered but his tone was clipped.

Bridget stood, the false smile still firmly plastered on her face. “Thank you Lucas, I’ll bare that in mind.”

She turned and left, closing the door behind her. 

She barely got into the hallway when her mobile phone rang. The caller display flashed Malcolm’s name. Bridget sucked in a sharp breath, she just hoped this was good news.

************

Twenty minutes before her lunch break, Bridget called. Franky hunted through her jacket pocket and pulled out her mobile. She shrugged apologetically at Charlie. “It’s the trouble-and-strife, could be important - I’ve gotta take it.”

He waved her out the back door as he took over the stove.

When Franky sat on the fire escape she answered her phone. “What’s up Gidge?” 

“Malcolm showed the police everything - they’re going to interview Tolly and re-evaluate the case. It’s the best outcome we could have hoped for.”

Franky’s head fell back and she let out a delighted whoop. She heard Bridget laugh – low and sultry – and it sent a shiver through her. 

“You ripper!” Franky cried joyfully. “Oh thank god! The cops finally got somethin’ right!”

“It’s a start,” Bridget agreed, more hesitantly, but the warmth in her voice shone through.

Franky twirled a loose strand of hair around her little finger. “Remind me to thank you _personally_ when I get home.” 

“I’m still recovering from your last show of appreciation,” Bridget replied softly.

Franky bit her lip. “I like to express my gratitude, Gidge. It’s just the kinda girl I am.” A grin crossed her features. “I could always pop by your office… for a little lunchtime snack,” she suggested.

“You’re incorrigible!” Westfall exclaimed. “I’ll see you at home.”

They hung up and Franky pumped her arms in the air with glee.

**************

They had a romantic night in. To celebrate they ordered take-away from Franky’s fav restaurant. Franky was in no doubt that Gidge loved her then because Bridget hated the food from _3 Sheets_ but she let Franky order practically everything on the menu without protest. She even attempted to eat the _Spicy Hot Chook_ with extra chillies and homemade hot sauce that Franky adored (the one and only time she’d tried it before she’d exclaimed; “How can you eat that rubbish? It’s like cardboard coated in grease coated in chilli… I can’t feel my tongue!”) and didn’t complain when Franky devoured six Aranchini balls. Then they watched a cheesy dyke movie with bad acting, drank beer and made out. Nothing hot-and-heavy, just gentle and intimate. Kissing for the sake of kissing; wanting to be close. It was the perfect evening.

They went to bed early. Under the sheets they curled into each other; cocooned and safe. It was the first time either of them had been able to sleep properly in days. They were both exhausted and comforted by the knowledge that the worst with Tolly was over. 

Franky wrapped her arm around Bridget’s waist and the blonde tucked herself into Franky’s side, she nuzzled close to Franky, her warm breath caressed the brunette’s neck and her arm draped loosely over Franky’s hip. They fell asleep like this.

When Franky awoke it was still dark outside. She felt tense - something had woken her up… something irregular. In the distance she heard a dog bark wildly. She sighed. It was Mr Granger’s bloody Staffordshire bull terrier again. He was more excited than usual… barking and howling up a storm. She closed her eyes but something didn’t sit right with her. That’s when she smelt it; the smoke. 

Franky sat bolt-upright and realised the floor of their bedroom was covered in a thick smoky fog. She shook Bridget, who was lost to asleep. Franky threw back the covers and clambered to her feet, shouting. “Gidge - get up!”

Drowsily the blonde pulled the covers tightly about her. “It's the middle of the night Franky... go back to sleep.”

Doyle yanked the covers off Bridget. “There’s a fire!”

This woke Bridget up. She instantly sat up. As her eyes fell on the fast moving, swirling smoke, she leapt out of bed.

Smoke was flooding in from beneath the door leading to the hallway. They backed away from it. Franky forced the window open - which faced out onto the patio - and motioned for Bridget to come to her. Bridget grabbed her mobile phone, which was charging on the bedside table, and moved towards Franky. 

They climbed out of the shutter window and made it safely onto the patio, where Bridget called the emergency services.

Mr Granger’s bull terrier continued to bay and yelp and Franky made a mental note to buy it the biggest bone she could find.

Franky and Bridget made their way round to the front of the house. Several diligent neighbours now stood on their lawns, staring at Bridget’s house with horror-struck expressions.

The newlyweds who had moved in across the street last week rushed over. “Are you okay?” Kerry or Carrie asked – Bridget nodded.

“Did everyone make it out okay?” Kerry or Carrie’s husband quizzed.

“Yeah,” Franky replied.

All of them automatically turned to the house now engulfed in flames. They could do nothing but watch helplessly. Franky put a comforting arm around Bridget; this was their home and it was devastating to witness its destruction - but at least they had been unharmed. It could have been much worse.

The Fire & Rescue brigade arrived swiftly. Smoke was billowing down the street and more neighbours had appeared. The firefighters leapt into action and quickly put out the flames. 

The garage was gutted and the house was severely damaged - the front hallway and Bridget's study were a mound of ash, parts of the roof were completely destroyed and the walls badly scarred, the rest of the house was just smoke-logged.

They were checked over by paramedics for smoke inhalation and given the all clear. 

Bridget went to talk to one of the firefighters while Franky returned to their bedroom and quickly packed anything she could salvage – she had booked them into a nearby budget hotel - the house was untenable, for a while at least. 

Gripping the suitcase, Franky appeared behind Bridget who was talking to Layla, a twenty-something firefighter who was covered in soot and sweat.

“We believe it started on the ground floor – probably the garage from the extent of the damage. The cause of the fire is unclear at the moment. We’ll secure the premises and surveyors will be in tomorrow to ensure the house passes its safety test before you can move back in. Structural damage is our main concern – the roof and floor have been weakened,” Layla stated. 

Bridget nodded and felt Franky approach. She smiled weakly at her lover and Franky rubbed her back gently, then wrapped an arm around Bridget’s waist. “Let’s go, we can deal with this in the morning,” Franky said softly.

Bridget nodded wearily.

Franky lead her to the waiting taxi and they left the dramatic scene behind. 

They spent the rest of the night sleeplessly nestled together under crisp sheets in the _Novotel._

Franky lay on her side studying Bridget’s profile while Bridget lay flat on her back staring at the ceiling. The moonlight was no match for the flimsy curtains and it streaked into the room. A pale iridescent light shone on Bridget and Franky watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed, saw her pulse, steady and strong, at her neck. She could tell Bridget was ruminating; she could literally hear the wheels of her brain turning.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Franky finally asked.

“That Tolly started the fire,” Bridget whispered.

“She’s done it before. Who was that poor kid she tried to barbecue?”

“Elliott Brahm.”

Bridget glanced at Franky and her eyes were filled with such sadness and defeat that Franky’s heart sunk. She opened her arms and Gidge moved into her embrace. 

Bridget didn't want to think about how close they'd come to imminent danger or that Tolly was capable of such deliberate maliciousness. But she knew, in her bones, that it was true. Tolly couldn't deal with failure or rejection so she deflected her feelings onto other people - held them accountable and punished them accordingly. In her messed-up head - this was justice.

Bridget rested her head in the crook of Franky’s shoulder. “We know it was her but she'll never admit it.”

Franky smirked. “She won't have to. I can prove it.”

Bridget drew back from Franky. She propped herself up on her elbows and gazed curiously into her girlfriend’s eyes. “What did you do?”

Franky shrugged nonchalantly. “I might've put security camera’s around the house which have been recording 24/7. You know, in case anything like this happened. I didn’t mention it because I didn't want you to worry.”

Bridget's mouth actually fell open in awed shock. “My god you're brilliant!” she exclaimed jubilantly. She slipped her arms about Franky's neck and rewarded her with a kiss that was both tender and appreciative.

“I have an app on my mobile that can connect to the video feed from each camera. Just got to check the footage to see if our suspicious are right.”

Bridget kissed Franky again. “I knew I had good taste.”

Franky snaked her arm around Bridget and pulled her closer, their noses brushing. “Since we’re both awake… seems a crying shame to waste a perfectly good hotel room, don’t ya reckon?”

Bridget grinned, her hands already trailing down Franky’s pyjama clad bottom.

*******

As sunlight stole through the window and birdsong announced a new day, Franky sat at the dresser in the hotel, checking her phone. The CCTV images were crystal clear and showed Tolly driving up to their house, getting out, creeping towards the garage, forcing the lock and breaking in.

Franky flipped to the interior garage camera and watched Tolly sneak in and scrummage around. Tolly eventually found what she was looking for – white spirit and paint pots – underneath the work bench at the back of the garage. Bridget had planned to repaint the hall and had stocked-up on paint just last month. Franky grimaced, looked like they’d be redecorating more than just the hall thanks to Tolly.

Franky watched her phone screen as Tolly opened the white spirit bottle and splashed it all over the garage floor, took a rag from her pocket and lit it, then threw it onto a puddle of white spirit and high-tailed it out of there. Tolly’s nonchalance was chilling. She did it so detachedly, like she was picking out a tablecloth, not committing arson and attempted murder.

Bridget stood behind Franky, watching the screen over her shoulder. Her breath caught as Tolly could clearly be seen smiling as she got back in her car and drove away.

Franky switched off her phone and turned to the blonde. “I say we shop the homicidal bitch to the cops.”

Bridget nodded. This was beyond any help Bridget could offer the girl.

“You want to call them or should I?” the brunette asked.

Bridget rubbed her temples; a severe headache starting. “I'll do it,” she volunteered. This was her responsibility.

“You think we could get frequent flyer points or somethin’, the amount of time we've been in contact with the cops lately?” Franky joked.

Despite herself, Bridget snorted a laugh. She kissed the top of Franky’s head and then moved towards the bed. Bridget sat down and picked up her mobile. She didn't even have to look up the number of _Barnhurst_ police station - she knew it by heart.

***********

Despite the early hour, Tolly was arrested at her home and dragged to the police station for questioning. She denied everything until she was confronted with the CCTV evidence, then her facade dropped and she released a tirade of abuse on the interrogating police officers. She kicked over the interview table and had to be restrained. After more tantrums and cursing - she was carted off to a cell to cool her heels.

***********

It took four months for them to finish repairs to the house. The insurance company had agreed to cough-up without much coercing; Bridget had never filed a claim before (and the police had charged Tolly with arson, so accountability wasn’t an issue). So repairs weren’t as traumatic as they could have been. 

Before they moved back in, Franky invested in several fire alarms which they proceeded to install in every room and she bought Mr Granger’s dog the biggest bone the local butcher had.

It was a hot Sunday afternoon, the radio played mellifluously in the background. They were just finishing the first undercoat in the hallway when the phone rang. Bridget put her paintbrush down and answered it. 

Glad of the interruption, Franky wound her arms around Bridget and playfully kissed her neck. This was her new favourite game; trying to distract Gidge while she tried to have a conversation over the phone.

“Hello?” Bridget greeted, swatting Franky away, unsuccessfully. “Oh hi Malcolm.” There was a pause and then Bridget tensed. “When did this happen?”

Franky immediately stopped her antics and studied Bridget’s face with concern. ‘What’s wrong?’ Doyle mouthed.

“Are you sure?” another lengthy pause followed and Bridget scowled, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Alright. Thanks for letting me know, I appreciate it. Bye.”

She hung up and turned to Franky.

The brunette slid her hands down Bridget’s back, suddenly filled with nervous energy. 

“It’s Tolly,” Bridget answered the silent question in Franky’s eyes.

Franky’s stomach dropped. “What’s she done now?”

“The police won’t be prosecuting her.”

Franky’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Why the fuck not?! She lit up this house like it was Australia fuckin’ Day! She’s a total fuckin’ headcase and a danger to others - ”

“She’s in a mental hospital, transferred last night. She’s not fit to stand trial.”

This stunned Franky into silence.

Bridget put the phone back in its cradle. She looked stricken.

Franky was relieved Tolly was somewhere she couldn’t get at them, somewhere she could receive the help she clearly needed… but she wouldn’t wish a stint at the funny farm on anyone. She’d seen first-hand with Jodi Spiteri what it could do. A chill ran through her.

“Hey,” she said softly, noticing the faraway look in Bridget’s eye. “Come here,” and she pulled the blonde into her arms, wrapping them protectively around Bridget. “You did what you could. Now it’s up to her to get better,” she kissed the top of Gidge’s head and stroked her hair soothingly. 

Bridget sighed and nodded. She drew back and peered into Franky’s eyes. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?”

Franky grinned. She reached for her paint brush and swiped it across Bridget’s nose, leaving a streak of white paint across her face, and laughed. “Yeah, I know!”

With mock exasperation Bridget grabbed hold of Franky and tickled her mercilessly. 

Through helpless giggles, Doyle dropped her paintbrush and pulled back, laughing as she ran away. Heading towards the patio doors.

Bridget picked up the paintbrush and chased after her.

The End


End file.
